Behind the Mirror
by Heiraste
Summary: We know the story of Snow White, but what about the Prince, the Stepmother, and who exactly were the Seven Dwarves? Was there more to her biting the apple and then snuffing it? It's time we found out.
1. Chapter 1

Castle Baris, Sidran; 8th day, 4th month, 3247 AGW

It was a calm and peaceful night sky. There was no thunder or flashing lightning to foreshadow impending despair and death. Yet nothing could be further from the reality that the queen's life hung in the precarious paradox that so many mothers go though. In giving life, she might forfeit hers.

She was an uncommonly strong woman. Not in the physical sense. But she in spirit she undoubtedly was, being able to take charge of her marriage to a half-mad king and make the kingdom stable and prosperous.

Meanwhile, in the servant's common room, three floors below the queen's birthing chamber, several servants of sorts gathered around keeping uneasy vigil for the news while others tried to keep their mind off things by busying themselves, though their shift for work was long over. They hoped for the best, despite knowing what the worst outcome could be.

"She'll be alright. She's already done it once, giving birth to the crown prince," a man says reassuringly though there was a hint of uncertainty in his voice.

"Yeah, but she's never had that much trouble with prince Seltian before," a woman points out.

Queen Larenie of Sidran had come to their castle as simply Lady Larenie Trelin. They heard that she was arranged to be married to King Veliar by her father. After all, what willing young woman would want to marry a king that was known to be half-mad? When they had been told that she was to come to their castle, they had expected a meek and subservient thing, a shrinking violet, who did exactly what her father or future husband told her to do; someone who would spend her days bemoaning her fate, being nothing more than an ornament and a future heir-bearer.

Instead, what they got was an outgoing and idealistic young woman. If that wasn't enough, she would openly seek servants and commoners to discuss her ideas of reforms. After all, it was for their sake that these laws were made. She valued their opinion and never hesitated to speak her mind to her husband. Indeed, it was the things that made him love her so.

She divulged to them only that she had known Veliar as a boy, when he and his mother would visit the seaside estate of Trelin to give their son a chance to be in a more tranquil environment for his state of mind. Still, what the queen thought of her husband she never gave away to them despite her usual openness. The king certainly loved his wife, more than simply her personality but part of it became an obsessive need to have her always by his side.

"Er-what do you think is going to happen if she ah... You know..." another man asked.

"You mean to us or the king?"

"Uh, either."

They talked on, trying to ease the air of tension around them. Words of hope and encouragement floating around, even with that lingering air of doubt and cynicism that comes when more people start being overly optimistic around each other. But as each minute passed it seemed to be spoken with little conviction, even the pessimists got tired of thinking the worst.

There was a creak at the door and a young maid entered the common room, her face pale and teary. She was one of the servants tasked to assist the midwife though as it was rather evident on her bloodstained apron and sleeves from carrying all the used linen and basins. Words weren't necessary to let them they know that their lively and gregarious queen would not be long for this world anymore.

_One. Last. Push._ She grit her teeth in frustration, sweat running freely down her face. Gather all the strength that she had in her, she screamed out her loudest yet, and soon it was joined by a wailing infant as well.

After using the last reserve of her strength, Larenie let her head fall back to the pillow and closed her eyes. There wasn't much time left for her before she died of blood loss, and there was no way she'd simply fall back peacefully and let matters take care of themselves.

The child continued to wail in the midwife's arms as he or she was being fussed over. Her child lives, that would have been enough for any mother to know. But there was the matter of the child's wellbeing and care that she had to ensure.

_It doesn't change the fact that you're still trying to come to terms with the fact that you're dying, _she told herself. Actually still doing something was her own way of trying to deny that she would be a lifeless corpse in a matter of time. It was an overwhelming feeling to have that knowledge.

"My son," she said to a nearby servant. She spoke with urgency in her voice though was strained and hoarse, "Bring me Seltian. Make sure he comes here before anyone tells my husband," the maid was a bit fazed by the request; nevertheless she bowed her head dutifully and went to fetch the crown prince.

"My lady, this is hardly an appropriate place for a young boy to be in!" protested another servant.

"I know that," she snapped in irritation "I need the rest of you to clean everything up as quickly as you can before he comes in. Cover it with the remaining sheets if you have to, just don't let him see the blood." _You'd think they'd forget about propriety even in an emergency. _Still, she knew better than to send her son in with everything in a morbid mess and send him into a traumatic shock.

With some assistance, Larenie was placed into a more comfortable position on the bed with the pillows propped up, and a brown wool blanket over her.

The midwife, Morna, handed her the baby now all clean and bundled up.

"It's a boy, Your Majesty. A healthy one at that."

"Keldris. No, Prince Keldris Veliar of Sidran," Larenie said, giving a sad smile at her young son. Turning to Morna, she asked, "How long do I have?" if she really was to die, then she would face it head on. _Ugly unchangeable facts of life, maybe it would have been easier if Death was a politician. _She did not want to admit even to herself that she was afraid. It was easier to pretend she was not.

"Two hours or less, my lady," Morna said somberly. She had even seen women not make it in less than ten minutes.

"At least I won't have to go through this messy business again," she said wryly. Her son was now nursing at her breast. _Dear, sweet Keldris, your father is a good man, he tries so hard to be. And I wish he would show you that when you grow up._

She had always considered it destiny that she were to be his wife. Had he married a more delicate lady, the woman would go mad as well within a year. Despite what many people think, she was no sacrificing martyr. She simply knew that she would be able to help the kingdom if she married him. She knew her husband needed her still, and that she would have to do what it takes to ensure her husband and son's wellbeing even in her grave.

Morna chose not to answer to that rather morbid but true statement. Instead, she watched the queen fondly nurse her son, trying to give him all the love she could give him in the remaining moments of her life. She had always known the queen to be like that. A fascinating combination of cunning and kindness, authority and openness, ambition and compassion. She prayed that her new son would take after his mother.

"Morna," Larenie began, turning to look at the old midwife's somber eyes, "I need to ask you a great favor. Stay here and become his nanny. My husband, it's most likely that he will resent Keldris. I know, he can be -unpredictable at times, I think I love him so despite that, but I don't want my son to be scarred emotionally or physically by him." _or perhaps do something drastic. _

Morna knew King Veliar as well since he was a babe, she had delivered him herself. Most of the time, he maintained a sense of calm and dignity throughout his life. It was only when he would show these fits of anger and rambling incoherence that they took in every detail of how he had lost control of himself. How far would he fall, at losing the one person he cared the most for? Larenie was perhaps the only person she knew that could give him the true sense of peace of mind.

"Of course, my lady," Morna said, "You don't even have to beg."

The door opened to admit Prince Seltian, only a boy of four years. Most of the mess had been hastily cleaned and taken away by the rest of the maids but he had seen a young maid with blood on her apron hurrying out on his way here. The young prince's eyes couldn't help but widen at the sight.

"Mother, what is happening? Are you wounded?" his anxious voice quivered with worry and concern. He knew that blood was something that comes out of you and it hurts when it happens. He remembered those time's he'd get cuts and scrapes from playing outside and how they made him cry. His mother must be so really brave then, he decided. She was sitting on a bed carrying a baby with a wool blanket pulled up to her belly, beckoning him to come closer with an outstretched hand.

"Sshhh, my darling. There's no need to be scared," she whispered, gathering him into a hug with one arm, "I need you to be strong for me."

Her little prince charming, she had called him. He had her bright blue eyes, and his hair more reddish-gold than her own dark red. She would never get to see him or Keldris grow into fine handsome young men she envisioned them to be one day.

"Would you like to hold your baby brother?" she asked. Little Seltian nodded with excitement and curiosity in his eyes.

"You can call him Keldris," she said as she and Morna guided him on how to hold the baby without dropping him by accident. For all her efforts, Larenie did not know how to begin explaining that she was dying to her little boy. _Honesty is still the best policy, I suppose. He's a bright boy. There isn't a need to hide the truth when he'll know it when he's older. Explaining why his pet died is one thing though; explaining why you are the one dying is another._

"Seltian, I want you to take care of Keldris for me. Morna and the others will be there too, but I need you to protect him if father becomes too frightening for him," while she could trust her servant friends to take care of his son's every physical need, she knew they had no power to oppose him as their king and master even in his most irrational decisions. Only she and her advisers can; she out of his love for her, and his advisers as his father had ingrained it to him to listen to them always.

"But why mother? Why would father be frightening to him? What about you?" He knew his father would be scary if people made him angry but father would always try to behave himself if he and mother were around. What could his little brother do to make his father angry? Poop too much and make the room smell? There were times too when he didn't understand why his father was being scary. Maybe it was one of those things.

"I-I'm dying Seltian," there. She had said finally gathered the courage to say it. What she didn't know was how to explain to him that she was dying from giving birth to his little brother and that was the most important thing she needed for him to understand if he were to protect Keldris. The worst she could do was make her brother resent him as well.

"I've told you that everyone dies at some point. Do you understand that?" she asked him.

"But you said people only die when they get too old like grandpa or get hurt-" understanding dawned on his young face "You were really hurt, weren't you?

"Seltian, when a mother gives birth to a baby, she's putting her own life at risk," she began to explain patiently but she knew she could feel death's icy grip on her now._ Just a few more moments, damn it! Just let me be able explain to him and say goodbye properly to him and my husband!_ "Sometimes, both she and the baby die. We should be thankful that you're brother is still alive. If-if you're father can't love him for me, I want you to love him for the three of us. Don't be sad, my brave strong boy."

He didn't like this at all. Here, he was already crying and scared. Mother won't be around anymore to kiss and hug him goodnight. Mother won't be around at all to do anything with him anymore! What if he can't do what his mother asked? He didn't feel like a brave, strong boy. He just wanted her to pick him up and say it will be alright.

The door opened again, this time in a more frantic, forceful slam that gave entrance to King Veliar. In quick strides, he rushed to the side of her bed. Seltian immediately edged away from the bed to give his father more space, carrying his brother his brother with him.

Larenie gave her husband a weak smile. His handsome face was lined with worry.

"You're going to be alright, won't you?" he asked with almost a childlike vulnerability in his voice. Larenie slowly shook her head.

"Don't leave. I still need you," he pleaded, willing her to live.

"I wish I could be with you always, but I can't. There are still so many things I want to do," she gave another sighing breath before speaking again. This time it was in a much, much weaker voice.

"Veliar, my love, things like this happen as a part of life and we have to accept it. Please, don't resent Keldris, don't project your pain to him. I named him Keldris Veliar, after you and your father. Please, love him when I can't be there for him. I love you all so much, Seltian, and Keldris."

What seemed like an eternity only took place in a few seconds as Larenie, beloved wife and Queen of Sidran, closed her eyes until her breathing slowly stopped.

"No!" her husband howled to the dark night in anguish, "I can't let you go Lalie," that was the name he would call her affectionately since he was a boy, "I can never be in control as before."

Soon, his cries were joined by the baby prince, who had woken up from the noise.

"Be quiet you!" he shouted, "It's your fault she's dead."

Seltian gave a small whimper of protest but Veliar spoke on, "If you did not exist, this would not have happened to her."

Had Morna been someone with more courage, she would have pointed out two things to the king. First, it hardly is dignifying to a king to yell at a baby. Second, to point out that he too had some involvement in the baby's creation; a very direct involvement in fact. As it is, she could only watch with quiet anxiety of what would play out.

Meanwhile, in Veliar's mind a part of him said stop. Lalie wouldn't like it. Lalie would scold him for frightening her children. She said they were his children too. A part of him; but he would never hurt Lalie! She pleaded to him to love the creature that murdered her in her stead. He could never do that, painful as it is to disappoint his dear. Why can't she still stay here and do it instead? She was so willing to love it, his selfless wife. She wasn't still gone, she was there lying on her bed, as if she were only sleeping. She can still be here to watch over that baby if she wanted to!

Suddenly, with a calmness as if he had not been in a mad rage a moment ago, he had asked a maid to call for a manservant. The woman was happy to oblige and get away before anything else happened.

Morna took Keldris from Seltian and rocked him back to sleep. She felt a tug at her skirts and saw Seltian with a worried look. _Really now, if you look in his eyes you could see it is as if he is wiser than his years, _she mused,_ then again having a father like King Veliar makes it necessary to grow up fast. I just hope his brother fares as well, if not better._

"Should we leave?" he asked, "Before-" he trailed off, not wanting to actually say it. Mother had known that father would be frightening. But what scared him more was that he did not know what to do. He felt so lost and helpless. Father would be the one that would make him laugh and play with him when mother couldn't. He couldn't even ask father what would happen now, he was scared of what he would answer him. He looked up and saw that Morna had given him a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"It's best to wait here for a while," she whispered. The king was in a volatile mood and she feared the slightest mistake might unhinge him again.

"Morna," the king addressed her without looking away from his wife, "Tell the embalmer to meet me here on your way out."

Morna knew the embalmer that resided in their castle. He was her cousin's son and an impudent man at times. She felt it was unusual of a king to personally request him, but since when did the usual things happen anymore?. "Of course, your majesty," she replied.

"Your majesty, may I ask when are we to have the funeral?" If King Veliar had summoned the embalmer, she supposed he had already accepted his wife's death. Some of the servants would want to be notified ahead, to prepare for their own goodbye's too.

"Funeral?" King Veliar gave an odd laugh. "Don't worry, we'll never have to go through that grim business of a funeral, you will see soon enough."

She was still holding Keldris and was wondering if she ought to take the boys with her or ask leave in their behalf from the king. She decided on the former, he would only notice them again if she asked. His answer made her uneasy and uncomfortable. Best to leave him in peace alone with his wife for now. Still, she did not like that foreboding feeling in her bones that something she wouldn't like will happen.


	2. Chapter 2

Herrault Manor, Wionrale; 26th day, 5th month, 3252 AGW

A few years later, in another kingdom close to Sidran there was a place called Herrault Manor.

Lady Ebrinne scowled at the mirror as the maids styled her hair for the ball. It was to celebrate the discovery of the queen of Wionrale's pregnancy and the summer. She did not see any point in being so excited as the baby would be born around winter and anything could happen in between. Not that she'd wish horrible things on the reigning queen, but you never know what fate might hand you after all.

Normally she would enjoy this as an opportunity where she could spend as much as she wanted on beautiful things but she was in no mood right now. Her father had been stripped off of his title as a duke by the new king for cruelty to the villagers of the land he lorded over and his abuse of power. It was nothing new to her of finding her father raping village women just as he pleased whether or not their husbands, fathers or brothers knew. She even had a suspicion that the previous king knew as well but never called it to attention.

It probably had to do with the fact that the queen was once a commoner from their land and that none of her older brothers were helping to improve their reputation. They were worthless, lazy wastrels and she was better off not acknowledging any of them as brothers.

She never liked her father that much either, and loathed the fact that it was because of him that their name was being brought low to the ground. The only consolation she had was that she had married into the Herrault family, a mere baronage but with more money than her family had right now. It left her no choice but to cut ties from her duchess lineage.

She felt a pin poke into her head and turned to the offending maid. She grabbed the offending item from her hand with a snarl and threw it at the panicked woman. It hit the maid in the forearm before dropping to the ground.

"Would you be more careful! I want to look perfect this evening, not be skewered by a stupid bitch like you!"

"Yes milady," the woman nodded meekly, and resumed styling her hair.

Ebrinne was an exquisitely beautiful woman of nineteen years. Her golden blond hair that was piled up in intricate curls did much to shape her heart-shaped face. The olive green of her dress also served to bring to attention her dark green eyes. And she knew every bit of it as fact.

Her husband had married her when she was fifteen, and she had consented in order to escape that miserably dull life at their duchy. She was an awfully gangly thing back then, eyes too big for her face aside from it being filled with pimples, her nose was too pointed for a young girl's, and she had all the awkwardness that comes with youth. She had considered herself lucky at that time that someone had finally took interest in her instead of becoming an ugly spinster as her brothers often called her.

Her husband was a plain looking man, but he had incredible wit and an aptitude for taking charge of things. Back then, she had thought she was very fortunate that she didn't end up with a worse-looking husband than her. They had been arranged to be married by her mother, to help restore some of their fortune and to give him a link to a much higher rank of nobility (not that he'd be wanting it anymore).

It wasn't until her seventeenth year that she began to truly see the young woman she would grow into. Instead of being called gangly, she was now considered slender but with enough curves. Her face had took on a more aristocratic and dignified look to it, given by her nose but did not look too sharp and angular for her large eyes softened it.

Still, a part of her feared that one day she'd wake up and find it was all a very long dream and would be called ugly once again by the other ladies.

Before she blossomed into the beautiful young woman she was today, she would mostly keep to herself as she heard condescending talks of most of the young women her age. Some of the older ones were far kinder, but they had their own circles and she felt the awkwardness of being with them. The girls her age that were not cruel to her for the most part ignored her apart from passing smiles, nods, and trivial greetings.

Before that, she would spend as much as her husband allowed on clothes and jewellery, hoping that one day they would fawn over her as well like they would to another lady with a new brooch.

They finally did, but then she could feel their forced smiles behind it all. She wondered whether it was simply her or if they had forced smiles for everyone. She still remained aloof, after learning that it added a bit of allure to the men. It was a subtle seduction without the effort of flirting the girls would do.

Her husband knocked on the door, and one of the maids left her side to let him in. She felt annoyed that she did not ask permission from her to allow the lord of the house to enter her room.

"I had an inkling that when you said you would be ready in a while it would take some time, so I was able to finish the epic I started the other day while waiting," he said amusedly.

"I would have been almost done, were it not for some incompetent beings who couldn't even pin a simple curl," she replied darkly.

"Ah, one of those moods I see. We best get going. I expect Galerius would be quite eager to meet you, I've told him so much about you,"

"What sort of things?" did the young king know she was the daughter of the man whose title he stripped and probably gave to some lesser lord?

"Good things, I assure you dearest. Odes to your grace, beauty, and wit," he chuckled but she interrupted him.

"Does he know of my lineage?" she asked anxiously. She often wondered why many laud her husband for his intelligence when he could barely notice anything she felt.

"No, I don't believe I've mentioned that," he said. She stood up from her chair as the maids moved back to give way. He took her hand in his and led her to their carriage.

Their manor was about an hour's ride away on a carriage to the castle. Castle Ralle was just a few miles off from the city proper. Built only two centuries ago, the castle was quite new in style when compared to those of old and stagnant Sidran and isolated Liezenthre. It was more of a palace of luxury than a fortified structure. Ebrinne yearned to live there one day. She knew it was a dream that would never come true, but still often thought about it.

She and her husband passed the ride in a companionable silence. He was poring over some new book on philosophy all the way from some country across the ocean. She never understood how he could tolerate reading in a moving carriage but she never cared to ask. It was just one of those things they knew about each other but never cared to see further.


End file.
